Consequences
by Emmie
Summary: ATF- Can Ezra deal with the consequences of going undercover?
1. Default Chapter

Consequences  
By: Emily Parsin (icensnowcreature@yahoo.com)  
  
Author's Warning: This story contains Adult content and deals with child slavery and suicide. If you do not like to read, or not able to, stories that contain sensitive material, please don't read this one.  
  
Author's Note: This is my first Magnificent Seven story, and I really love to hear feedback!   
  
It was going to end today. Ezra Standish looked into the bathroom mirror in the cheap hotel room where he had been staying for the past six months. Dark circles surrounded his haunted jade eyes giving him an appearance of a sick racoon. His face was pale and his protective mask he wore could no longer hide the tiredness that filled his whole body. Even his medium brown hair had lost its shine.   
  
Ezra knew he was sick, but he was also aware it was not just his body that was worn out but his mind as well. He kept trying to remind himself that today it would end. Today the case would close. Today he would get to go home. However, not even the thought of seeing the six other men he work with, the men who had become family to him, could produce even the slightest amount of excitement. All he could think of was that he still had to do his last part to close the case, and for the first time in his career, he did not know if he could do it.   
  
The whole case had sat wrong with Ezra from the beginning. First, he would not be working with the rest of team seven but with his former FBI workmates. This made going into any uncover assignment difficult, for they hated him and would not be looking out for his best interest. Then, the case was dealing with kidnaped children. Cases dealing with children were always the hardest for Ezra. He took the case too personally. That was one of the first rules of the job, is not to get to personally involved, but Ezra could not seem to help himself when dealing with children. There innocence and trust put an extra burden on him, for he would do his upmost to protect them. With the case dealing with children and his former coworkers, Ezra knew the case would not go well.  
  
Ezra noticed his hands were beginning to shake, so he made his way over to the full size bed in the hotel room and sat down. He tried breathing deeply to try and calm himself down, but it was becoming more and more difficult. He started having this problem after the third week of working undercover and his first week with the kidnapers. It was during this time that he witnessed one of the children, a small ten year old boy, be killed right in front of his eyes. The little boy had been killed because he had gotten sick and was not worth the effort to keep alive.   
  
The kidnappers took children from ages eight to thirteen. These children would later be auctioned off as slaves for what ever their masters wanted. Ezra had been completely horrified at the thought when he began reading about these evil men in the report the FBI had gathered. The FBI had become suspicious of multitude of kidnaping, around the country, with no ransom notes. The FBI sent out to find the best of their men and women to work on the case, but they were having no luck breaking into the kidnappers circle. That was why his old workmates contacted him. Though they extremely disliked the southerner, they knew he was one of the best, and he had been able to get into places no other could.   
  
The next few months were even worse, but still nothing prepared him for the last few weeks. During the following months, he was beginning to integrate himself among the kidnapers, charming Bradford Kipson, the head boss and slowly made his way through the ranks. For the longest time, he had never seen one of the kidnaped children, besides the young boy, but he had heard plenty. They told him story after story about how they grabbed the kids and how much they got for him. After the first month, Ezra had begged to be taken off the case, but people in charge of him refused to listen. However the last few weeks had just about completely broken Ezra.  
  
Kipson had decided it was time for Ezra to take a more active role in the operation and had brought him down to were the children were. It was the most horrifying experience Ezra had ever lived through, even compared to his own dismal childhood. There had to have been fifty children. Each one of them were terrified. Sobs filled the room where the children were held. Some of the more rebellious children yelled and screamed wanting to be let out. Ezra had almost thrown up when the hatred and scared eyes were direct in his direction.   
  
From that moment on, Ezra could not sleep of eat and barely function. He was not sure how he continued to do the job. By this time, Ezra was not above groveling to get out of the assignment, but once again his pleas had fallen on deaf ears. After all, this is what they had been waiting for. They now knew for sure it was Kipson that had been kidnaping the children. However, the FBI also wanted to people that were willing to buy children on the black market.   
  
Ezra knew that tonight was going to be the hardest. Tonight was the night the auction was to take place. He did not know if he could stand there and watched as the people prepared to haggle of the prices of innocent children. He kept repeating to himself he was doing this to save the children and any future children these men planned to kidnap. He repeated it to himself like mantra. It only helped a little, but it was enough to get him to finish getting ready, dressing up in a black three piece suit that he would burn as soon as the mission was over.   
  
Not able to look himself again in the mirror, Ezra closed his eyes and tried to prepare himself for the night a head. When he opened his eyes, his calm facade was back in place and he slowly made his way out the door and into the darkening night.   
  
*********  
"Ladies and Gentlemen," announced Bradford Kipson from a stage built in the front of the large make shift auditorium in an abandon warehouse, "we are about to start with the auction so please take your seat."  
  
Ezra stood off to the side taking in the whole scenery. Men and women, dressed up in their finest sat around many large round tables, decorated with white table clothes and an array of flowers in the center, talking and drinking. Most of the them looked like ordinary people one would never suspect as doing such an atrocious thing. The building was surprising elegant inside, and Ezra assumed it was so the people would not think of selling children as something unsavory.   
  
The lights dimmed, and Ezra heart began to race. He knew that as soon as the first child was brought out that the FBI would come barging in. It was now only seconds away.  
  
"Ladies and Gentlemen," Kipson began, a white light shining on him. He straightened his black bow tie in front of his expensive suit before continuing. "May I present you the first young lady of the evening."  
  
Two large muscle men brought out a squirming eleven year old. The girl was yelling and screaming at the top of her lungs, but no one in the room seemed at all bothered by it.  
  
Kipson made the remark, "This young lady is certainly spirited..." but was interrupted in the middle of his speech when the double doors at the back of the building burst open and the FBI came barging in. The room erupted in chaos as everyone tried to escape. Soon bullets started to fly from both FBI and Kipson's men. Ezra quickly jumped up and raced up to the girl, trying to get her out of harms way. Once he grabbed her he began to move to safety, but before he could move far, the girl turned to look at him and gave him a hateful and discussed look, causing Ezra breath to hitch. Instantly he let go of the girl in shock and he began to shake.   
  
Ezra almost collapsed to his knees but somehow managed to remain upright. Disdain at himself welled up inside him and he felt extremely dirty. At the moment he truly loathed himself and wanted nothing more than for everything to end. Without really thinking, Ezra stepped into the middle of the open fire and then felt a sharp burning pain enter his right shoulder causing him to be thrown to the floor. It took little time for him to escape into oblivion.   
  
TBC... 


	2. Part Two

Everyone had felt the loss. Chris Larabee walked from the break room to his office with a steaming cup of freshly made coffee, watching as three of his men entered his undercover agent's office. He shook his head slightly but let the action slide. For the past six months, the whole team had been worried about their undercover agent, Ezra. He had been taken, to use his skills, by the FBI so they could solve an extremely difficult case. Chris had objected to his man being taken, especially because Ezra would be working with some old coworkers that did not like the southerner. Unfortunately, there was nothing that Chris could do and had to let go of the best undercover agent he had ever seen.  
  
Now six months later, Team Seven had heard that the case Ezra had been working on was coming to a close and that their prodical son was returning. In fact, that was why Vin, Buck, and JD were entering into Ezra's office; they were going to give him a "welcome home gift." Chris was not sure how appreciative the southerner was going to be, but after working with the FBI for so long, he might just enjoy it.  
  
As Chris was about to sit down at his office, in the middle of the large room, the phone began to ring. He picked of his phone and answered his normal rough, "Larabee."  
  
"Mr. Larabee," said an unfamiliar voice, "This is Doctor Laurens, from New York City hospital. I regret to inform you, but a Mr. Ezra Standish has been brought in to our emergency room with a bullet wound to his left shoulder."  
  
"What!" hissed Larabee over the phone, "how serious is it?" While he waited for the doctor's answer, hundreds of possibilities came to mind of what could have gone wrong. He collapsed into his leather black chair staring intently, but unaware of, the oak desk in front of him. He had known something was going to happen to his somewhat irritating undercover agent, and now his worse fears were being realized.  
  
"The Bullet came very close to hitting Mr. Standish's heart," the Doctor continued, "Had it been an inch over, he would have been dead at the scene. Fortunately, we were able to operate and fix most of the damage done, but he will still have to be watched carefully until he is completely healed.  
  
"However, the reason I called was we will be transferring him to the local hospital in Denver, for we think it may improve his state of mind."  
  
"What do you mean his state of mind?" growled Larabee.  
  
"The doctor's from the local hospital near your office," the doctor went on, completely ignoring the question. "asked us to call you and give you an update of the patient. He will be arriving there in about an hour and half time."  
  
Chris was aware his question was not answered but decided to let it go, "thank you for informing us, goodbye."  
  
Not waiting for a response, Chris hung up the phone and the bellowed, "everyone in here now!"  
  
It took only a few moments for the rest of the team to assemble in Chris's office. With one look at their leader's face, they knew something was not right.  
  
"Ezra has been shot and is being transferred to Denver Memorial." stated Chris as soon as he had everyone's attention.   
  
The room quickly filled with murmurs of dismays and questions of how and when. Chris held up his had to stop the comments and then said, "I don't have a lot of information right now. We can all head down to the hospital and try and gather more information there. However, I was told that he should be okay."  
  
Though it was a relief that Ezra would be alright, the men's faces continued to show their concern. Nathan was trying to get Chris to remember everything the doctor told him to see if there was perhaps something that would let him know how Ezra was really doing. He was already thinking of what would need to be done, on their part, for Ezra rehabilitation.  
  
***************  
They made it to the hospital in about forty-five minutes do to traffic. By the time they got their, all six men were agitated and wanting to see their friend--their brother. When they came marching up to the nurses station, the nurses barely contained a groan at their frequent, and problematic visitors. They looked over the six men and realized it was the young southern man that was most likely the reason why they were here, since he was not with the others. The head nurse did grown out load at this, for he was the worse of them all, always complaining and escaping from the hospital, before it was advisable.   
  
"We were told that Ezra Standish was being transferred here from New York City hospital," Chris stated without preamble.   
  
The head nurse quickly looked over her papers and then nodded, her brown hair falling out of her loose bun, "Yes, we have him scheduled to arrive in about fifteen minutes. If you take a seat over int he waiting room we will send someone over to let you know when he has arrived."  
  
The team walked over to the seats to begin their wait. It took them less than five minutes to start to get overly impatient. Vin, who hated hospital just as much of Ezra, especially the antiseptic smell, was drumming his fingers on his faded blue jean. Nathan was pacing like a Mother hen that had miss placed one of her chicks. JD sat next to Buck, driving the older man out of him mind with incisive chatter, trying to take his mind off the reason they were here. Josiah looked at the clock as if memorized by the ticking of the second hand. Chris just glared at anyone within his range of sight.   
  
Time seemed to slow down, but finally a young doctor came over them to report. "Are you Team Seven?" quizzed the doctor looking a little nervous around the intimidating men.  
  
When they nodded, he continued, "Mr. Standish has arrived and is now in a private room on the second floor."  
  
"When can we see him?" demanded Chris scowling at the young doctor.  
  
"Not for another couple..." the doctor cut off in mid sentence as he realized these men might seriously hurt him if he did not allow them to see their friend. Instead he said, "right now would be fine, but please be aware, Mr. Standish has just had a long trip and will be tired. Please don't stay to long."  
  
The men were already headed towards the elevator before the doctor finished speaking. When they walked into Ezra's room, they were completely shocked by the sight. In the middle of a large hospital bed, laid a small and fragile looking Ezra. It was obvious that the man was sick and not just from the gun shot wound he had received. His face was pale and drawn, an he looked like he had lost a lot of weight. His green eyes had a glazed looked to them as they stared vacantly out into space. Everyone was outraged at the condition of the young man before them.  
  
"Hey Ez," Vin called, speaking softly to the southerner as he moved up beside the bed. "How are you feeling?"  
  
There was no response. Nathan went over to Ezra's medical chart and read on the younger man's condition. He frowned as he read the chart. He was speaking mostly to himself when he said, dehydrated and malnourished."  
  
Chris growled. Someone would pay for this. No one hurt his own. The other men nodded in agreement, understanding exactly what their leader was feeling.  
  
Josiah moved to the other side of Ezra bed and whispered to him, "We're here son."  
  
The rest of the team murmured their agreement and then tried to get comfortable around the room. The night was going to be long, and no one was going to kick them out.  
***********  
  
It had been three weeks since Ezra was transferred to the Denver Hospital, and though his wound was healing, we was still unresponsive. This was making everyone nervus. There was always one of the seven sitting with him, but so far, he had made no attempt to converse. They knew he was aware of their existence, for he did anything someone asked him to. This was causing even more concern, for the Nurses were used to have a very stubborn patient on their hands, and not even on his best behavior did he act like this.   
  
Finally the doctor suggested that since Ezra was pretty well and healed, being taken out of the hospital might improve him some more. Chris agreed and they took him over to Chris's ranch and set him up in the guest bedroom. However, after being at the house for over a week and still no change, everyone was beginning to become really concerned.   
  
The fist thing they thought of was to check the report of the case for any clues as to why he might be acting this way. Unfortunately, they did not have his report and had to go by the other FBI reports, but that gave very little information. Then they contacted a shrink, but Ezra completely ignored her. The shrink did, however, think this was caused by something in the case. So, the men went over the reports again. Still nothing showed up and frustration at not being able to help their friend escalated.   
  
Two nights later, Chris had just fallen a sleep, when screaming woke him up. Instantly awake, he jumped out of bed, in only his boxers, and reached for the gun he kept by his bed and headed out of his room towards the noise. He soon realized the screaming was coming from Ezra and went into his room, expecting the worse. In the middle of the guest bed, tangled in the bed sheets, Ezra cried out in his sleep.   
  
Chris ran over to the sleeping man and tried waking him up. Ezra was obviously dreaming about something terrible, mumbling things like, "It's not my fault," and "I'm soo sorry." Chris heart constricted at the soulful wailing. He kept shaking the southerner, until finally he woke up just enough to stop the horrible dream.   
  
Long after the southerner had went back to sleep, Chris stood their and watched him sleep. Overwhelmed, Chris ran his fingers through his blonde sleep tousled hair and whispered, "What's not your fault Ezra?"  
  
*****************  
  
The next day, Chris tried to talk to Ezra about what conn man felt was his fault, but the undercover agent would walk away from him whenever he started the conversation. Chris was not sure if this was an improvement or not. Before, Ezra would just ignore whoever was talking to him. Chris was not sure what he was going to do if Ezra did not come out of the fog he was in. They were running out of options.  
  
An Unexpected gift arrived by Vin in the early afternoon. Vin had decided to drop by on his lunch break to fill in Chris, who stayed home with Ezra since it was decided it was probably better if Ezra was not left alone, about what was going to at the office, and to check up on the patient as well. Plus, he had a letter he was told to bring to Ezra.  
  
"Hey cowboy," Greeted Vin, walking into the open house. Chris grunted in response. "Any improvement?" Chris shook his head. Vin sighed and then pulled out an envelope from his shirt pocket. "This letter came for Ezra through the FBI to Judge Travis," he explained. "It looks like a little kid wrote it because there are some drawings on the envelope. Do you think we should give it to him?"  
  
Chris shrugged, "I don't think it would hurt." Standing up, Vin a Chris went to go look for Ezra who was sitting quietly in the living room, doing nothing.   
  
"Hey Ez," The sharpshooter called sitting next to the southerner, "we got this letter for you. Would you like us to read it for you?" When he received no answer, he decided to take that as a yes and opened the letter and handed it to Chris.  
  
Chris read:  
  
Dear Mr Standish,  
  
My name in Kristy, and I wanted to thank you for rescuing me. I know you probably don't remember me because there was so many of us kids with those bad people, but I was the one they were trying to sell with when the police came in. At first I thought you were one of the bad guys too, and I was very upset with you. But then my mom explained that you were working undercover to help us. I just really wanted to thank you, and let you know I will never forget you!   
Love,   
Kristy   
  
Both Chris and Vin looked at each other. That had been a very moving letter. It was not often did they receive letters such as this one.   
  
"It not true though," a tortured whisper responded.  
  
Chris and Vin whirled to look at Ezra, who had spoken for the first time in two months.   
  
"What's not true?" asked Chris gently afraid that Ezra would close up on them again.   
  
"I didn't really help them," yelled Ezra, pushing himself from the couch and began pacing the living room. "There were so many of them. They were all so frightened and scared, and I couldn't do anything to help them. To them, I was really one of the bad guys, and they hated me. And still, I did nothing. The worse part was, I even begged to be taken off the case. How could I do such a thing? Everything depended on me to do my job, and I wanted out! I just wanted it all to end!"  
  
By the end of his tirade, Ezra began to cry. It was really startling for the other two men to see, for Ezra was always in such control of his emotions. It took them both a few minutes to react as well as fully understand what the man had said.   
  
"You're wrong Ez!" Vin stated with conviction. "You did help all of those children, Kristy and the rest, as well as all the children that Kipson would have kidnaped if he not been caught."  
  
Chris nodded his head in agreement before adding, "and everyone has their moments when they become overwhelmed with their jobs, especially in our line of work. It does not make you any less of a person, in just means your human. You're not superman."  
  
Ezra looked at the both of them with tear filled eyes wanting to believe what his two friends were saying, but not quite sure if he should. Instead, he slumped to the floor, exhausted from his emotional outburst.   
  
"You did a good job, Ezra," complimented Chris, "and we will get you through this."  
  
Ezra took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. It meant a lot to him what Chris had said, for he was one of the few men Ezra respected. He was not completely convinced about what the two men were saying, but he was now willing to listen. He was willing to do anything to relieve the guilt that had been residing around him like a dark cloud where he could no longer see the sun. With his brother's he could do anything.  
  
*****************  
Epilogue  
  
Dear Kristy,  
  
You will never know just how much I appreciate your letter. It came at just the right time for me. I can never thank you enough, for your letter may have saved my life. I will never forget you as well and will keep your letter always with me.   
  
Your friend,   
Ezra P. Standish 


End file.
